Wednesday, July 30, 2003
Moving Today
Moving, for Jess and me, is now a state of being rather than a verb. All my crap I briefly consider throwing out as I pack it into old beer cases suddenly becomes treasure, longed for as I think about all I could be looking at. Of course there were those two boxes from last year's move that were never really reopened all year . . . . In the cubby of the closet of the house I'll leave in 12 hours there is a box of old National Geographics, and I wonder if they were ever missed.
Oh, the joy that will flow when I can sit at my desk again, everything in reach, typing, like I knew what I wanted to say . . . .
Oh, the joy that will flow when I can sit at my desk again, everything in reach, typing, like I knew what I wanted to say . . . .
